Snapshots
by alwayswritewithcoffee
Summary: Sometimes the small moments are the most important. A collection of ficlets (usually less than 1,000 words each) about moments in the Castle-verse.
1. Chapter 1 Let's Dance

_A/N: Because 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' sneak peeks keep giving me all kinds of ideas. This whole work is going to be rather abstract - ficlets that are little snapshots of Castle and Beckett. It's actually been fun to do, allowing me time to write something when I'm too busy to sit down and write a whole chapter or not in an angst-y mood for Manhattan (which will be updated soon, I swear!). I hope you enjoy. _

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Castle. If I did, my bank account would have a lot more numbers in it.

* * *

She follows Castle begrudgingly, practically chases his long strides down the main hallway towards the pounding beat of music. It's one of those times where she hates his childlike enthusiasm, how it takes over even the most ordinary of actions when she really needs to catch her partner and convince him that they should go home rather than enter the horde of teenagers she can now see bouncing and swaying to a cover of a Mandy Sutton song she only vaguely remembers from the radio.

He's disappeared on her by the time Kate passes through the double doors, his dark hair and black suit blending impossibly with the bright glittery confections that the girls in the room have chosen for their school dance. She remembers her own experiences, the soft blue of her dress, the elaborate hairstyle her mom had spent most of the afternoon creating, the butterflies that had taken flight in her abdomen and kept up a steady dance until her date had ditched her to kiss another girl in the middle of the dance floor.

It'd ruined her night, to say the least. And at 17, Kate Beckett had lacked the confidence that she'd found during college when a boy had cheated on her. She'd slunk out of the dance and gone back home, ignored any and all references to the night. Spent all of twenty minutes at her senior prom the following year before heading to a gig with her grunge rocker boyfriend who had let her drink herself into a couple of decisions that she still questions almost sixteen years later.

Since then, she's never enjoyed high school dances. In fact, her memories of high school are an odd patchwork of stupid decisions, memorable nights, and heart break. Not all of the fond memories that Ryan, Esposito and Castle have been flooding her with during the case - detentions cast aside.

Kate stops just inside the door, presses her body back into the shadows of the wall while the band continues to play. She's decided not to chase after Castle, to hold her ground until he's completed whatever mission brought them to the dance and then go home for a long bath and a glass of red wine.

She never expects for Castle to slide up next to her as the song changes to a slower beat, how gentle he is when he takes her hand or how willingly she leaves her perch against the wall to follow him onto the dance floor.

"Castle, what are you doing?" Her question is voiced quietly, her breath stuttering in her throat as he places her left hand on his shoulder. It doesn't help when that his own left hand draws a smooth path along her arm and down her side, pressing with a calm assurance against her waist to pull her closer to his chest.

"Dancing," he responds easily, a slight twinkle in his eyes once their bodies begin to sway with the beat, "Because the next time we do this? You'll be wearing a gown, and have a new last name. I needed at least one dance with you before that happens - a dance with Kate."

She can't stop the smile that blooms across her face, so completely overwhelmed and in love with the man in front of her. He doesn't have a clue about her history with school dances, isn't pushing to right some wrong that a boy she barely remembers did to her. He's thinking ahead, focused on a future that fills Kate with so much joy and happiness that she sometimes thinks her heart will burst.

She loves him. Every single cell of her body, every facet of her mind are so completely in love with him that she can't imagine why she wasted years denying it. And now he's hers, and they are getting married.

"Okay, Castle," Kate breathes, "Let's dance."


	2. Chapter 2 Witchcraft

_A/N: You can also find these on my tumblr - alwayswritewithcoffee _

* * *

"Kate, Kate, Kate," her name comes as a steady chant, and she's just far enough on the side of tipsy to find it funny rather than annoying.

Castle is slumped next to her, the mutter of her name on repeat while an empty margarita glass dangles from his fingertips. They had both stopped counting around the fourth one, but followed it up with a shot of whiskey that Kate knows will be responsible for the raging hangover she will have in the morning.

But it's hard to be upset, least of all due to the copious amount of alcohol she's consumed. The Hamptons are crawling with people, Manhattan's upper crust come to while away the hottest months of the year, and their trip hadn't arrived without their pick of fancy cocktail parties and garden barbecues.

Instead, they'd found the shabbiest bar on the shore. Some run down dive that was only inhabited by the locals, its interior full of cracked nautical gear, whitewashed boards, and a karaoke set up that looked absurdly out of place with its high tech flat screens and shiny black finish. She had even teased Castle about singing when they'd stumbled through the door, had poked her tongue between her teeth in that teasing gesture which she knew drove him mad.

The margarita's had seemed the obvious choice for a humid summer afternoon. The taste of salt at the rim of the glass matching the smell of the sea, while the burn of the liquid down her throat had matched the heat of Castle's eyes while he had watched Kate purse her lips around the lime and suck the hollow of the fruit slice dry.

She had done it on purpose, just as he had pressed his fingers across her inner thigh and drawn shapes on the bare skin visible below the hem of her denim shorts. And then he'd kept it up, a steady caress that had driven her towards downing another full margarita and trying not to thrust her hips towards his fingers inside the confines of the booth.

So she had dared him to a drinking contest, dared him into a distraction that had left them slumped against each other in the booth, giggling like teenagers on a first date. Stealing sloppy kisses even while Castle's hands continued to caress and tease.

She should have remembered that he likes to touch things - especially after a few drinks. But she had forgotten, had challenge him to a contest and now ooh, now she was going to lose because of how he chants her name against the shell of her ear, how his fingers are finding paths underneath the hem of her shorts, the edge of her shirt.

"Castle…." she gasps it out, her hands giving a firm press against his shoulders, "Come on, babe, we need to go."

"No, Kate,' the words are a whine, the sound of a little boy being told he's about to lose his favorite toy, "I wanna stay. You promised me a song…." And then he's pouting at her, a expression full of sad eyes and extended bottom lip. It's one that makes her tip her head back and laugh, draw him in close to tug that same lip between her teeth as she kisses him.

He growls in response, a sound that shoots straight to her gut and makes it very difficult not to ignore the public setting and allow him to have his way in a corner booth. Kate knows that's as much the alcohol pounding through her blood as her desire for the man next to her, and that resolve crumples a bit more as his hand sneaks under her white tank top and skims across the strip of skin at her waist.

"Sing me a song and I'll take you home," he drawls against her ear, the tone of his voice so self-assured and possessive that she wonders if he's only pretending to be completely drunk, "You know you want to go home, Kaatte," Rick practically sings her name, chuckling a little at himself while she rolls her eyes.

"If I sing, you sing," Kate challenges, bending her head so she can capture his earlobe between her teeth for a brief tug, is rewarded with the stuttering of his breath and the tightening of his hands on her skin as he ushers her out of the booth and up towards the small raised platform.

It takes three minutes of quiet arguments, of soft kisses and teasing touches before they can agree on a song. But Kate warbles out Frank Sinatra's 'Witchcraft' with gusto, swaying slightly from the alcohol and laughing madly as her fiancee performs some sort of interpretive dance. It's a terrible rendition, an utterly embarrassing one, but she can't regret it as the song comes to a close with Castle dipping her dramatically and smacking a loud kiss against her lips.


	3. Chapter 3 Little Girl

_A/N: Inspired by Beckett's line in 6X16 'Your dad loves you, he worries about you.'_

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It's the third night since Alexis' dramatic exit from the loft when Kate wakes to the slight chill of late Autumn at her back. Even though it's well past 2 a.m., Manhattan and all of its noise bounces through the window - sirens, speeding taxis, the yells of late night explorers off to the next party or a 24-hour diner.

None of that phases Kate, its the sound of the city. Her city. It's as comforting as a lullaby or the sound of summer rainstorm. No, its the absence of sound, the lack of Castle's familiar warmth and soft snores at her back that stops her short and draws her out of the cocoon of blankets.

Her heart breaks a little when she finds him sitting on the stairs that lead to Alexis and Martha's bedrooms. He holds a large brown album in his hands that Kate can see has been well-loved through the years, and she knows without ever having peeked inside that the photos are of Alexis. Castle has remained quiet, pensive in his mood while he tries to accept the choices that his daughter has made.

And, in direct response, Kate has held her tongue with the benefit of having once been a teenage girl at odds with her father. But, even with that experience, it's an awkward position to be in. This 'no man's land' where she is to marry this man and become family, though a piece of it keeps her at arms length and there are more moments of feeling like an intruder than a part of the club.

Kate lives in a perpetual state of imbalance, desperate to worm her way into this quirky little family unit but so afraid of tipping the scale in the wrong direction.

So she treads carefully, tip-toeing across the line to gently push Castle when he needs it. Retreating for a safe distance on the occasions that Alexis is around, always making herself scarce, always giving them space to be a family.

But, now, that family is fractured and she's spent three days watching the man she loves suffer in quiet.

"Castle," she whispers his name, her fingers diving into the soft hair that curls against his neck. He doesn't lift his head from the album, though his shoulders hitch slightly with a shaking breath and the crown of his head falls forward to rest against the flat plane of her stomach. "You can't hold yourself responsible for Alexis leaving. It was her choice."

"I know that," Rick responds immediately, his voice cracking on the final word, "I do but I….she's my little girl, Kate. The one thing I've always depended on for twenty years and I don't…..I don't know what to do."

"You do what you've always done," her voice is soft, gentle in the way she approaches both the broken man in front of her and the situation she's been pushed into, "You act like her father. Let her get this out of her system, live with a boy in an awful apartment and be angry. I know it seems like it's the end of the world but, eventually, Alexis will come around. Pi won't be here forever, Castle. You will be."

The seconds tick by, only the steady rise and fall of their breaths marking the time but gradually he shifts, tugging Kate into the fold of his left arm, drawing her to him like a moth to a flame.

When he tilts his head up to kiss her, she can taste the salt on his lips and see the tear tracts but she doesn't comment. Instead she gives what he so desperately needs from her, comfort that this too shall pass and reassurance that he is, indeed, an incredible father.

That night is the first of many where Kate sits curled in the circle of his arms, listening to stories and perusing photos of Castle's life with Alexis. And with each photo and each word, Kate falls a little more in love with him.


	4. Chapter 4 Role Reversal

_A/N: From a tumblr prompt 'Beckett proposes to Castle at the end of Watershed', by castleramblings. Strictly AU. _

* * *

The realization of what she wants comes to her in the middle of the interrogation room. It strikes with the blow of a dozen fists, and leaves Kate struggling to find a breath as the prick of tears cloud her vision.

It had been all bravado before with her dad. The voice of that stubborn and terrified woman who found it easier to bury herself in work and run from emotional entanglements. Though she hadn't lied to her dad, she _did_ want the job. She _does_ want the job.

She just wants Castle more.

Kate is still caught somewhere in the seriousness of her decision, the weight of what her subconscious had decided, when she calls Castle. And she's grateful that he agrees to meet, that he's still too wounded by her perceived betrayal to question why she chose the swings - their swings - as the meeting point.

If he were on his game, Richard Castle would smell the significance. He would be sitting alert and suspicious, blue eyes flickering rapidly between the park and the street to try and piece the story together. Instead, she finds him hunched over, wearing the body language of a man who has arrived already defeated.

And her heart cracks a little as she approaches, filled with regret about how she handled the entire situation, aching to repair the hurt that she has caused. She needs to explain, she needs to soothe his worries, take responsibility for her actions.

He doesn't even look up as she sits next to him, eyes cast outward as if he's waiting for the final blow. It takes all of her power to restrain herself from reaching out to touch him, from blurting out all the things that are pressing against her chest and ready to escape. Her lungs feel like they are on fire, her hands are sweaty, and she takes a deep, measured breath, releases some of that tension. Forces herself to focus.

"I'm sorry," she begins quietly, sincerity dripping from her words that is echoed by her resolve to finish what she came here for, "I shouldn't have kept secrets."

Kate isn't the only one who has arrived with determination. She can see it the moment Castle bends his head in a nod, his quiet acceptance of her apology. "It's who you are," he fires back, no real heat to the words, but a soft acceptance that further intensifies the ache in her bones over what she has done with a such a small secret. "You don't let people in. I've had to scratch and claw for every inch…"

It's all she can take, her eyes fluttering closed for a beat as a puff of air releases from her mouth, followed by his name, "Castle…" she has to stop him, has to explain herself and her decision.

"Please, let me finish," Rick replies, that same quiet tone to his words. But she can't do it, she _can't_ sit there for another moment while her own words burn at her throat.

"No," she says quietly, jumping to her feet so that she stands in front of him, "I don't need you to finish. I need you to listen to me, to look at me when I tell you that I'm sorry." Kate places her fingers underneath his chin, gently tilts Rick's face upward and then she waits until his reluctant eyes flick towards her own. "Hi," she breathes after a beat, tamping down on the urge to kiss him because, damn it to hell, she absolutely loves him.

"I love you," Kate whispers, taking in the way his eyes flutter and the tension in his jaw relaxes as her fingers splay across his cheek, "And I am so sorry that I kept that interview from you. It was childish, and it was wrong. You deserved to know, but, Castle," she needs another deep breath then, another pause to control the rapid pounding of her heart, the thunder of her blood in her ears, "I got the job. And I want to take it."

She knows the moment the words register, because the pain and the bright flare of panic burns his sky blue eyes a shade darker. And she internally curses herself for how nerves and excitement are getting the better of her and further ruining something which she came to repair. So Kate stutters into action, drawing herself down to brush a kiss against his forehead, his cheek, the bow of his upper lip. "But I won't do it, not without you," she adds softly, her dark eyes locked on his so that he cannot miss her intentions, her seriousness, "Because, Richard Castle, you are what I want. Far more than any job."

The smile she is rewarded with is slow to come, but it begins in his eyes. It burns away the panic and the pain, leaves nothing but a staggering amount of love that almost brings Kate to her knees. She's left breathless by it, powerless against it, as Castle tips his head upward to kiss her on the mouth, and the words rise up. They fill in the spaces between her bones, ignite her blood, and give her courage to voice them as they kiss.

She releases them when break apart, both of her hands caressing his face as they stare at one another, "Marry me, Castle."

It's long after he's laughed and told her yes, after he shows her the ring he's had stored in the wall safe at the loft, after they've celebrated their engagement with a long afternoon of naked bodies pressed together that she realizes she didn't phrase it as a question.

But she can spin a theory, wrapped in the circle of Castle's arms, that was because there was never any doubt. Her heart knew the answers long before her mind.


	5. Chapter 5 Baby

_A/N: Based off a tumblr prompt from howthisworks_caskett: ' Beckett tells Castle she's ready to start trying for a baby'. Set sometime in Season 7._

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"And she was a brave warrior, the knight known round the realms for her bravery and skill in defeating the dragon which had threatened the kingdoms for so long. But though the King offered her any manner of rewards, be they riches or land, they were all declined," the low rumble of Castle's voice meets Kate's ears like a caress, gently pulling her from the nap that she couldn't remember falling into in the first place.

When she opens her eyes, her husband is on the floor with the full attention of a fourteen month old Sarah Grace Ryan. The girls head full of blonde curls jiggles as she bounces in time to the cadence of the fairytale, her tiny legs working furiously while her hands wave wildly in the air.

It's a precious and beautiful image, one which prompts Kate to linger on the couch and watch as Sarah Grace's brown eyes trace Castle's face and then split into a grin which is only broken by the appearance of tiny teeth.

And then Rick chuckles, his lips pressing a smacking kiss to her rosy cheek, "Until the King offered the one thing the knight truly wanted - him. A life with happiness and laughter, a place where she was loved. And so they married, and lived happily ever after in a world where the Knight continued to slay dragons and the King continued to talk of the brave feats his wife accomplished."

She chuckles at that, pushing herself up onto her elbows in order to lean forward and drop her own surprise kiss against Castle's jaw, "Hmmm, I feel like I've heard that one before," Kate teases against the shell of his ear, grinning in response to a second gummy smile from the girl in Rick's arms.

"Hello there precious girl," she coos, so completely taken with Sarah Grace and the breathtaking ability which Castle has with children.

She's as certain that he was born to be father as she is about how desperately in love she is. And then its like Kate is struck by lightning, the suddenness in which she decides that she wants this with him flaring bright and hot under her skin, pushing the breath from her lungs with enough force that it ruffles the soft strands that frame his ears.

And it earns her a look over his shoulder, a unspoken question in his blue eyes as Sarah Grace babbles at them in an effort to turn their attention back on her. But he doesn't immediately engage the baby, his eyes raking over his wife to try and decipher what her mind is turning with.

Kate knows it isn't the time. That her quiet realization should be saved for later this evening when Sarah Grace has been returned to her parents, when they are decompressing with a glass of red wine but she can't keep it in.

So she savors it, letting the desire for a family with Castle fill her up. It's the same buoyant sense of joy, the contentment and utter conviction that this is right. It's the same sensation she had when she accepted his proposal, when they exchanged vows in an impromptu trip to City Hall one Monday afternoon in May. "I think we should get one of these," she whispers into his ear, a full smile on her face as her eyes meet his for the moment her words register.

Castle is looking at her with awe, shock, and a bit of reverence that she's sure she doesn't deserve, but it makes her heart thump faster in her chest anyway. "Yes," the word falls out of his mouth a second later, a brilliant flash of teeth in the moment before he kisses her, "A million times, yes."

She isn't surprised, when, four months later, two pink lines appear on a pregnancy test.

When they announce it to their precinct family it's by gifting Sarah Grace a t-shirt that reads 'I'm getting a cousin!". After all, it was a weekend with her that sparked the whole thing.


	6. Chapter 6 Confirmation

_A/N: Tumblr prompt from dangfan, 'Rise - "I'm not gonna have the kind of relationship..." - Castle asks for confirmation that Beckett is talking about them.' AU, obviously._

* * *

Their conversation at the swing set sits with him for days, slowly churning around until it's all that he can think about. The conviction and honesty of her words, the determination that burned in her eyes to find justice for her mother, to settle the score with the demon who tried to rob her of her own life.

Rick finds his own sort of peace with it at first, some measure of himself that accepts that those words were the only apology Kate can currently give. That part of him is also the hopeless romantic, the man who is sure that if he bides his time and patiently waits that all will be rewarded.

The rest of his mind poses a problem. That is the part who has been burned by too many women, taken too many lovers into his bed, experienced crippling heartbreak at the hands of females who used the depth of his emotion against him. His heart tells him that Kate Beckett is not that woman, that she asked for time to be ready to face what he believes they have together, his mind knows that she is merely human and terrified of commitment.

And, ever so slowly, that part of his mind eats away at his confidence.

By Kevin and Jenny's wedding, he's an emotional wreck, so completely insecure and uncertain about where he stands with Kate. The teasing banter, the searching looks, the flirting and the secret smiles all lead him to believe that she is trying, that she is getting better, but they never talk. In fact, they have never acknowledged the conversation again since his reference to it about a week after her confession.

He wants her completely. Mind, body and soul, scars both emotional and physical. It's beyond his comprehension that he is longer capable of loving someone in the way that he loves Katherine Beckett, and every day, every hour, the ache of not having her, not being the one she loves in return - that pain grows stronger. It whispers doubts in his ear, convinces him of unthinkable endings that turn his loving and gentle spirit into one that burns hot with rage and bitterness.

Rick is fighting another one of those emotional wars as he takes a turn on the dance floor, pretending not to be watching as Javier and Kate laugh as they spin around the room. It's Lanie's soft cluck against his ear that snaps him out of it, her sigh as she begins to lead him in a direct path towards their friends.

"Dance with this fool so he will stop stepping on my feet," she tells Kate, pressing her willowy frame towards his. Rick's hands bracket her waist on instinct, the smell and feel of her so close already surging through his veins and beginning a steady drum of longing in his gut. All he can do is match the shy smile she gives, watch her slim fingers tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear as they sway to the beat of the song.

"You are a good dancer, Castle," Kate offers the compliment freely, the lightest hint of pink staining her cheekbones as she chuckles, "I don't think I told you that last time."

No, she hadn't told him that all those years ago when her hair had been stylishly short, her patience thin, and their partnership as precarious as an infant taking her first steps. But he can't imagine he was as good on the dance floor with her as he is now. Rick can't remember if they fit together so easily, if his hand curved into the dip at her lower back as perfectly as it does now. He knows that there was no sparkle in her eye, no indicator that she was enjoying being in such close quarters with him. The slight upward curl of her mouth, the pleased sigh as she places her head against his shoulder - all of that is born from how well they now know one another, how much trust and history they share.

He's arrested by the emotions, that sudden swell of adoration and love that so frequently presents itself when Beckett is nearby. For a moment he's sure that he will choke on it, pour it all out against the caramel curls of her hair and be devastated while she shuts him down, forever ending this hopeless fantasy that runs so vividly in his head.

And that makes him ache, the knot of desperation and need for her joining all of the rest of it. The breath he releases is loud, passing through his lips as a breathless plea, his very last action before he makes his mind up to find some sort of resolution or hint to calm his fears. Living like this, with this pain and unknowing limbo is not something he can sustain.

So he whispers it to her, paints against those glorious curls with a call of her name.

"Mmm?" Kate doesn't even shift, only her voice and the squeeze of her fingers against his waist the signal that she heard him.

He tries three times to form the words, all of them catching hopelessly in his throat only to tumble out in a rush of emotion, the syllables hitching and stuttering over the crown of her head, "That day on the swings…your wall….you were talking about us, weren't you? Bringing that down so we could try…." he leaves the rest of the sentence undefined, too arrested by the softness that he finds in her eyes when they rise to meet his.

"Yes, Castle," she answers, her voice steady and sure, "You are the only person I want. No one else."

If things were different, if she were ready, he'd kiss her, whisper just how much he adores her, how entrancing she is. But things aren't different, she isn't yet his to kiss and to love, though that day is coming.

For now, he's content to share a dance.


	7. Chapter 7 Introduction

_A/N: Part of an ongoing meme on my tumblr of one word prompts. This one is 'Introduction'. _

* * *

She meets Richard Castle in the dead of winter, all because of his eyes.

It's that piercing blue gaze that calls out to her, the thing that sets the book apart as it sits on its shelf with a dozen other bestsellers inside the Denver airport. Those eyes capture her interest, lure her further into the small storefront filled with books, magazines and newspapers. The slight curl of the author's mouth, the hint of mischief and cleverness, it brings a surge of want and curiosity slithering through her blood that surprises her. It's officially the first time she has felt anything but all encompassing grief and sadness since her mother died, the first time that anything has truly held her interest.

For that feeling alone, she buys the book with a single swipe of her dad's credit card, a quiet thank you to the clerk who tells her "It's a thriller." before passing the book and the receipt over to her.

It isn't until she's opened the front cover, completely devoured the first page that Katie realizes the book is a mystery. By the fourth page the murder has already been committed, and the police detectives are on the scene to look for clues that, in the final chapter, will put the person responsible into jail.

That streamlined resolution calls to her in a way that perhaps nothing else has before in her young nineteen years. She knows with certainty that the killer will be caught in these pages, that the justice her mother will likely never receive won't befall the unfortunate victim.

And so she reads. The book, the words of Richard Castle become her companion inside a cold and impersonal airport. They follow her as she boards her plane back to New York, laden down with two suitcases stuffed full of items meant for California sunshine, frat parties and night-long study sessions. The suitcases hold a past that she no longer cares about, while the book holds the promise of a future that already fills her with anticipation even though the outline is hazy at best.

She reads as the plane continues its predetermined path, eyes hungrily absorbing the final paragraph just before the aircraft begins its descent into Queens. It's absurdly fitting that she finishes the book while suspended in air, caught between her old life of Stanford, beaches and sunshine and her hometown with its gridlocked streets and bitter winters.

The wheels of the plane jostle the interior as she closes the book, as the sense of peace overwhelms Katie. The family got their justice, the killer got their punishment and all remained right with the world. The system works, life does go on, and somehow she can breathe a little easier.

She buys a second book by Richard Castle before she hails a cab towards her Tribeca neighborhood where Katie meets Derrick Storm, super spy.


End file.
